Decaying hope.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 11, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 11, 2018



My mind in another dimension, my body is but a mere vessel set on autopilot.

Unconceivable to those I pass each day as I carry out the mundane tasks set for me.

The once chasm of loneliness that enveloped me can no longer be put so delicately.

The façade I wear is a constant.

 I could be at the core of the earth,

no one to hear, to know the pain,

the anguish that drains the blood from my veins.

Though there would be no change.

With no mirrors I would still wear my mask.

 For as much as I am unable to reveal myself,

my true face;

I am even less equipped to allow myself a peek.

 Fear became me long ago, and enlarging each day,

it is now my entire entity.

 Longing for something to penetrate it,

my hope,

 all I ever had is decaying with each passing second.

So hollow,

so easily broken.

Though when there is nothing left but cracks on my empty shell,

the inevitable shatter that will rip away my last drop of sanity is so agonisingly tiresome to await.

© Copyright 2018 A.K. Jones. All rights reserved.